


I Forgot Why I Hated You Again

by peridottie



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, SORRY FOR TAGGING LUCAS AND THE OTHERS BUT THEYRE COMING IN LATER CHAPTERS, Slow Burn, i hope i don't disappoint, my first mileven fic AND slow burn? oh boy, they're like sixteen dw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-11 10:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13522731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peridottie/pseuds/peridottie
Summary: Her? was Mike’s first thought upon seeing El stomp towards the school, tattered bookbag hanging over her shoulder. Fuck, was his second.





	1. Big Girls Don't Cry

El Hopper sat in silence with her father, Jim, while the car’s engine rumbled quietly around them. The silence was suffocating, but she didn’t dare initiate a conversation. She wanted to say sorry and, more importantly, cry and beg to not have to go— she wouldn’t let herself do that. 

 

_ You are not eleven anymore _ , she reminded herself,  _ You’re sixteen. Old enough to be driving this stupid car. _

 

Hopper cleared his throat as he parked the car. El looked at him, grizzly and needing sleep, and felt another twinge of guilt. “Jane—” 

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

“Okay.” He grabbed a cigarette. “ _ El.  _ I’m not mad at you anymore, you know.”

 

The girl scoffed. “Uh-huh.” The lighter flicked. She stared at him, face pinching up when the familiar but terrible smell of smoke hit her nostrils. He took a long drag, and she waited. 

 

After a million years Hopper continued. “It’s cheesy, but I really am just disappointed. I know you don’t belong here with all these…” he gestured vaguely with his hand, “Jack-offs. But I  _ am  _ a cop, and you need to serve for what you did. It’ll teach you a lesson. I got detention a fuck-ton in school, you know that? And I deserved it. I came out of it a better person.”

 

El scowled at her father; was he really comparing himself to her? She got in trouble just this once, and it didn’t even _matter_ , and it wasn’t the _same_. She tried desperately to find reasons to be mad, and she was falling short, but she’d rather die than admit it. So she snorted and unbuckled herself to step out of the car.

 

“Yeah, this will really be an  _ important  _ experience, I’m sure,” she scoffed. “Sitting around with those…  _ assholes _ all day. Including the teacher! You think I’m gonna learn anything doing  _ nothing  _ all day? I’d get the same thing sitting at home!” Hopper looked at her stupidly, his cigarette hanging loosely in his lips. He suddenly wanted to call his mother and apologize.

 

“And I told you, I  _ hate _ when you smoke. I can get cancer from it, too!”

 

With that parting comment, El slammed the door and walked briskly across the street towards the concrete steps of Hawkins High. 

 

At the same time, Mike Wheeler was slumped in his mother’s station wagon, staring outside his window. Karen Wheeler’s lecture, unbeknownst to her, was falling on deaf ears. 

_ Her?  _ was Mike’s first thought upon seeing El stomp towards the school, tattered bookbag hanging over her shoulder.  _ Fuck,  _ was his second. 

 

He had seen her around school before (she was hard to miss, with her half-shaved head and almost biker-esque fashion sense. People always said she was a dyke), but had the luck, so far, of not interacting with her. Now it looked like they’d be stuck in the same detention hall, and he seriously wished more than anything he was  _ anywhere  _ else. He’d rather shovel snow all day. 

 

“... And do you really want to keep ruining your life? Your chances at going to  _ college _ ? Because you decided to be irresponsible? This is junior year, Michael. Colleges are looking into you more than any… Michael?  _ Michael!  _ Are you even listening to me?!”   
  
“Huh?” Mike straightened in his seat and met his mother’s furious eyes. She looked like a cartoon bull seeing red. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I know, mom.” 

 

Karen sucked in a sharp breath and looked at her son. God, she needed a drink. “Just go,” she muttered quietly. “I’ll pick you up afterwards. Your father is busy. And your behavior better straighten up after this, Michael, I mean it.” Mike stared apologetically at his mom before sighing and getting out of the car. He shared a look of understanding with Holly, closed the door, and turned on his heel to look at the school. This was going to be a nightmare.

  
  
  


Eleven walked past the teacher, Mr. Murrin, without sparing him a glance. She was trying to calm herself down before she started knocking over bookshelves and blowing out light bulbs, but nothing was helping. She felt  _ terrible _ . Why did she always have to be so mean to Hopper? He was just trying to help. In that moment, she felt like the worst, most disappointing kid in the world, and wished she could cry. But instead she sat down and threw her bag to the side with an unamused look at the clock.

 

Mike entered not long afterwards and greeted Mr. Murrin quickly before surveying his surroundings. El snorted when she saw him; he sort of looked like a kicked puppy, one of the ones that had legs too long and skinny for its body. His eyes settled on her while she was still smiling. What the hell was so funny?

 

Mike shuffled to one of the desks farthest from hers, and slumped in his chair. He stared wistfully at the door and hoped someone,  _ anyone  _ else would walk in. Even one of the biggest assholes at school; at least they would antagonize Mr. Murrin and make detention more  _ bearable _ . But nobody else showed up. He was going to be stuck with this  _ freak  _ all detention. He couldn’t even do homework.

 

“Well, looks like it’s just you two today. First timers, huh?” Neither teen spoke. The teacher cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “Alrighty, then. The rules are simple. You sit here and think about what you’ve done. No homework, reading, music, sleeping, talking, anything. You’ll get to eat lunch at 11:50. I’ll be in my office just over there, so don’t try anything. Got it?”

 

Silence again, except for a nod from Mike. Mr. Murrin was satisfied. In truth, he didn’t really care. He knew neither of them were really kids to watch out for. He strode down the hall and into his office, opened a magazine, and put on some headphones.

 

_ And then there were two _ , Mike thought.

 

_ What a geek,  _ Eleven’s mind chimed. She propped her feet on her desk with a clunk and stretched, yawning. Mike turned around to look at her, and found himself staring at her hair.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing. Why is your head half shaved?”  _ What the fuck?!  _ His mind screamed. That was the stupidest thing he’d probably ever said.

 

El straightened up immediately. “Why do you think, huh?”

 

Mike shifted awkwardly in his seat. “I, uh, don’t know. That’s why I asked.”

 

“Well,” El crossed her arms and started picking absentmindedly at her red nail polish crudely applied the night before. “I have cancer. But only on one side of my body, so it only falls out on that side.”

 

“You’re lying.” 

 

“No shit.” Mike stared incredulously at the girl. She stared back, with eyes twice as menacing; a look that could kill. What the  _ hell  _ was her damage?

 

“It was just a question, you know.” He swiveled back around in his seat. “Not everything is an attack on you, weirdo. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

 

“Yeah,” El replied, going back to her nails. “People liked me better when I was quiet.”

The two returned to their uncomfortable silence. Mike felt like the biggest idiot in the world, but he was also a little pissed off; he was just trying to be nice, why did she have to lash out at him like that? She must have really been as fucked up as people said. With a better attitude and normal clothes, Mike figured, she wouldn’t even be that bad. People wouldn’t make fun of her so much if she was  _ normal _ . He was a geek, but at least he wasn’t psycho. 

 

“Hey, if we’re asking questions,” El said, breaking the silence after about fifteen minutes of Mike’s pondering (she hadn’t planned on talking to this kid much at all, if she could avoid it, but now that he’d bugged her, she wasn’t going to leave him alone), “Why are you in here?”

  
  
“You say it like this is a prison.”

 

“Might as well be.”

 

“Oh my god, you’re  _ so _ edgy,” Mike tried as he looked back at El. “Did you write that in your diary?”

 

El’s face scrunched into a disbelieving grimace. “What, do you  _ like _ school or something? You look like you fantasize about your math teacher praising you for getting into a university.”

 

“Blow me.”

 

“Sorry, I’m not Mrs. Hagan, do you want me to pass along the message?”

 

They had yet another stare down, but even though he couldn’t  _ stand  _ this girl, he had to be slightly impressed. People said her english was bad, or at least it used to be, but she was really witty.

 

“You’re just jealous.” Mike smiled smugly and leaned back in his chair. “At least I’ll be getting into a university.”

 

“ _ Jealous?! _ ” El nearly shouted. “Of  _ you? _ As if! I bet you pissed yourself when you found out you got detention.”

 

Mike raised an eyebrow and his grin grew wider. “So you come here all the time?”

 

“No.”

 

“Exactly, so you don’t have any dirt on me.”

 

El scowled at Mike. His smug smile made her want to punch his lights out. He knew exactly what he thought about her.  _ Stupid fucking rich boy. He thinks he’s better than me. They all fucking do. _

 

“Okay, momma’s boy, maybe I don’t,” she hissed. The air suddenly felt colder. “I bet your rich executive dad cheats on your mom all the time. Probably with some blonde bimbo waitress from Chicago. I can tell that just looking at you. How’s  _ that  _ for dirt?”

 

Mike leaned forward in his chair with a dull thud. His eyes were stormy, and his chin seemed to wobble; with anger or sadness, El couldn’t tell.

 

“At least my parents are loaded,” he spat, and really,  _ why? _ It wasn’t as if he’d ever cared about that shit before, but he was just so  _ angry _ . The teasing wasn’t fun or smug anymore; it was venomous. “I’m not some psycho bitch who doesn’t know how to be a normal fucking human being. No wonder people don’t like you.”

 

El froze, and very suddenly, Mike was scared. She grit her teeth and was nearly  _ shaking  _ with rage. She couldn’t even organize her thoughts; it was pure, incoherent rage that radiated from her and seeped like cold fire into Mike’s veins. The lights above them started to flicker and vibrate. She stood up from her seat and grabbed Mike swiftly by the collar to pull his face only inches from hers.

 

“ _ Go FUCK yourself. _ ” 

 

Mike, stunned, was about to retaliate when Mr. Murrin cleared his throat. Both of the teenagers stared up at him, the lights immediately returned to normal, and Mike felt the energy suddenly dissipate. “Miss Hopper,” the teacher said calmly. “Would you like detention again next weekend?” 

 

El shook her head slowly, paralyzed, her eyes wide. “N-No,” she managed weakly. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry.”

 

Mr Murrin shook his head and laughed. “They’re always so tough until they’re caught. Here’s your last chance; sit down and shut up, or you’re back in here again. Got it?” El nodded quickly. Her lower lip was quivering. As the teacher turned and walked away and she returned to her desk, she gave Mike a hurt, criminalizing look that said  _ thanks a lot, asshole _ before burying her face in her jacket.

 

Mike slumped back down in his seat and sniffed. He tried to ignore the girl’s quiet, muffled sobs behind him, but it was useless. He thought of a million ways to apologize, but kept reminding himself that  _ she  _ attacked  _ him _ first, and that he had just stood his ground and fought back. 

 

It didn’t make him feel any better. Even later that day, as he lied awake in bed, he was still thinking about her. As much as he didn’t want to, and even though she hated him and he hated her, he had to apologize. 

  
_ Why can’t it just be as easy as it sounds? _


	2. I'm Sorry About Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike tries to make things right again with... mixed results. But his time with El is far from over.

“... And then she started  _ crying. _ ”

 

“HA!” Dustin shouted. He leaned back against his mom’s recliner and pointed to an imaginary El in the corner. “See?! I told you, Lucas, her whole fuckin’ image is a cover! She’s just like every other sad weirdo.”

 

“What do you want, Dustin, a pat on the back?” Lucas played with the shoelaces on his converse absentmindedly. “Everyone has  _ feelings.  _ She was just scared. But she was obviously tough enough to almost beat the shit out of Mike.”

 

“Yeah! Like an insane person! You know, they say that she grew up in a mental institution. That she’s got schizophrenia, and she talks to voices in her head about  _ killing people _ . I’ve also heard she got molested or something as a kid, and that she killed the guy who did it, and now—“

 

“Will you shut the fuck up, Henderson?” Max spat. She scooted away from all of the boys. “God,  _ you’re  _ the insane one! You don’t know if any of that is true! It could all be complete bullshit. No wonder she’s so closed off, it’s cause people like you are assholes.”

 

“Oh, so  _ I’m  _ the asshole?”

 

“Yes! Don’t you all remember when I acted like a bitch to you guys, too?! Why was that, huh?” They all fell silent. How could they forget? They did feel bad, though, that she had to avoid them and be mean just because of her brother. 

 

“Well…” Dustin finally began. “Yeah. And that was because your brother was a piece of shit. Nobody’s a freak like her for no reason.”

 

Max stared at Dustin with fire in her eyes that matched her hair. She started to stand up, but Lucas grabbed her. “Babe, relax, he’s just a dumbass, don’t—“

 

“Well just fuck you, Dustin, if I’m such a freak then maybe I shouldn’t hang out with you guys!”

 

“Cut the shit, Maxine, you’re just hormonal! You on the rag or something?”

 

“GOD, you need to stop hanging out with Steve, you fucking—“

 

“GUYS!” Mike shouted. Max and Dustin both froze, anger draining from their faces. Mike’s hand was clutching his knee so hard it was white. “This isn’t helping! Do you want to keep having your petty fucking fight, or do you want to actually help me? I give you fuckers advice all the time, and you can’t even help me  _ once? _ ” They all looked away from Mike, and the guilt was clearly plastered on their faces. It was like a mother scolding her kids. 

 

“Screw this,” he muttered. Mike stood up and grabbed his backpack. “I’m going to Will’s.”

 

He was halfway down the driveway when Max jogged outside, calling for him. “Hey! Wait!” Mike stopped and turned to face Max with his eyebrows furrowed. 

 

“Listen. If I were you, I’d just go over when she gets out of one of her classes and apologize. Don’t weasel around it. She might get pissy with you, but just… accept it. If you keep trying, she’ll probably hear you out. But she’s not just gonna melt in your arms.” Mike nodded, and felt less angry— _ finally, some good advice _ . He didn’t really trust Dustin much anyway, and Lucas would probably agree with what Max said, since he had to live it (boy, did she play hard to get).

 

“Thanks,” Mike said quietly. “I hope you’re right.”

 

By asking around, he soon found out what El’s last period was, and planned to wait there after school since he had off block. He couldn’t deny that he felt like a creep, standing by the lockers and checking his watch every few minutes. Why did he care so much, anyway? It wasn’t like she was going to listen to him. Especially when he’d been so cruel and she was so willing to get physical. 

 

Finally, when Mike was just about to work his way into a panic attack, the bell rang. He straightened and watched the door of the classroom like a hawk. Students streamed past in an excited blur, not even noticing Mike, but there was no sign of the hot-tempered girl. Even once the stream turned into a trickle, and then nothing, Eleven was nowhere to be seen. 

 

_ Just go home _ , he told himself.  _ She’s not here. Try again another time.  _ But he didn’t go home. He craned his neck to look into the classroom, and sure enough, there she was. She was nervously playing with her short curls while her teacher cleared his throat. Mike stood stupidly in the doorway, forgetting he was even visible, when the teacher noticed him. 

 

“Need something, sir?” El swiveled around to see who must have come in, and her eyes widened in almost comedic fashion.  _ Him?! Again?! _

 

Mike’s eyes flickered back to the teacher. “Well—“ his voice cracked “—I—I’m supposed to tutor her today after school.”

 

El’s jaw was slack in pure amazement. The teacher sniffed and crossed her arms. “You have a tutor?” he asked. El nodded slowly and swallowed; was this really happening? What was she even  _ doing _ ? Why was she agreeing? These questions didn’t have time to be answered. 

 

“Well, that’s… reassuring. Go ahead, go study. And I  _ hope  _ it involves studying for this class, too, Ms. Hopper.”

 

Eleven, in an almost dreamlike state, stood on legs that felt like cooked spaghetti and walked towards Mike. Together they walked down the halls and, once outside, El turned on Mike accusingly. 

 

“What the  _ hell  _ was that?” 

 

Mike sighed. Was nothing easy?

 

“That wasn’t my  _ plan _ ,” he replied in defense. “But it looks like I just got you out of a lecture, so you’re welcome.”

 

El snorted. “What do you want, a trophy?” Mike gazed unwaveringly at the girl in reply—he wasn’t going to let her faze him, not this time. 

 

“Why did you come, then?” El finally said. 

 

“Because I wanted to apologize.”

 

El seemed a little taken aback, and Mike continued. “About yesterday. I… I shouldn’t have said that stuff about you.”

 

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” El responded. She wasn’t expecting Mike to apologize; she wondered if maybe he was just joking, that some of his geek friends would pop around the corner and say Gotcha, freak! But she didn’t think so. He seemed nervous, and shy. Whoever his friends were, they probably didn’t even have the guts.

 

“I mean, I don’t even know your real name. People just say it’s…” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Anyways I’m, uh... s-sorry.”

 

“What’d they tell you?” Eleven took a step forward that was curious, but read as threatening. 

 

“No, it’s stupid,” Mike assured. “Just a rumor. There’s no way.”

 

“Tell me.” Her eyes were gleaming with a sort of untapped emotion, and Mike swallowed thickly.  _ Why is she so weird? _

 

“They… they call you ‘Eleven’. Like the number. Stupid, huh?”

 

El huffed and turned swiftly on her heel, walking away from Mike who was standing there in shock.  _ Stupid _ .

 

“Hey, I told you, it’s just a rumor—!”

 

“It’s  _ not  _ a rumor, asshole!” El shouted, turning back on Mike. “That’s what I  _ like  _ be called! God, are you an idiot?!”

 

Mike was stunned. Of  _ course  _ she would call herself a number. “Well I’ve never met a girl with a name that was a  _ number  _ before. Do they do that in Russia?”

 

El crossed her arms defensively. “That one  _ is  _ a rumor,” she hissed. 

 

“How am I supposed to know? Look, I’m not trying to bully you or something. I’m trying to be nice!”

 

“Oh, what an American hero  _ you  _ are,” she said. Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, but she almost didn’t want him to leave or stop apologizing. Nobody had ever done that for her before. Maybe him being such a pansy was a good thing. 

 

They stood in silence for a moment. El’s eyes flickered up to his, and darted away again. He sighed. 

 

“I’m Mike. There. Now we’re on the same foot.”

 

“No we’re not,” El replied quietly. She looked brooding, but at the same time sad. “That’s why I got pissed off. You’re… you’re goddamned  _ loaded  _ and your life is probably just  _ perfect _ , and you look at me like I’m this  _ thing. _ ”

 

Mike looked incredulously at the girl and threw up his hands. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you don’t know me  _ either!  _ Maybe I have a  _ terrible  _ life, just as bad as yours! How would you know?”

 

El’s eye twitched. “You don’t,” she said coldly. “Trust me.” She started to walk away again, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Mike watched her walk down the grass.  _ Don’t say anything _ , he told himself.  _ It’s over. You apologized. Just go home and never see her again. She hates you and you hate her _ .

 

He didn’t know why he wanted to keep going. He wanted to argue and assure her that his life was  _ surely  _ just as bad, but why? Was it really? He’d just make himself look like an asshole again. And he didn’t want to have to apologize anymore. 

 

—

 

“Mom, can I eat dinner in my room?” Mike asked his mother. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes; it’d been a long day. 

 

Karen glanced up from her pot roast and shook her head. “No, sweetie, you’ve done that two nights in a row. Just sit with us.” 

 

“Mom!” Mike whined. “Please? I still have homework to do, and I really wanted to listen to my new DEVO record!”

 

“No, Michael,  _ sit _ . And you bought that record with  _ my  _ money, so I get to decide when you listen, alright?”

 

Mike rolled his eyes and sat down in his chair with a dramatic thump and began eating half heartedly. “That’s something your father and I have been discussing,” Mrs. Wheeler continued. “You need to get a job soon.”

 

“What?!” 

 

“You’re sixteen, have been for months! You need to get a work ethic—college isn’t the only thing that’ll get you a good job, you need experience.”

 

“It builds a man’s character,” Ted chimed. Mike glared at his father and mother. A  _ job _ ? Where would he even get a job? He wouldn’t let himself work at some greasy burger joint, he just wouldn’t. 

 

“Mom, there’s no way I’ll be able to have a job  _ and  _ do school! It’ll kill me!” he cried. School was already overwhelming, he could never balance a job on top of it. He needed every hour he could to do homework. 

 

“Welcome to the real world, son,” Ted continued. Karen looked apologetically at Mike. 

 

“It’s not fair, but I know you can do it, honey,” she said gently. “You’re smart enough to make it work. Your father really wants this. Please, just try to find something?”

 

Mike started to retaliate, when a lightbulb went off in his head. He nodded sagely and, as soon as he finished his dinner, he practically ran upstairs and yanked the telephone from the wall. He looked for the name “Hopper” in the phone book, and called the listed number with shaking hands. 

 

“Hello? Mr. Hopper? M-My name is Mike Wheeler. Is your daughter in need of a tutor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UH OH TUTORING CLICHEEEE.... i promise the good stuff is coming guys! Feedback is very much appreciated!


	3. Take Your Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El and Mike might not hate each other so much after all.

“I can’t believe you pulled that fucking stunt,” El hissed. She had her shoes propped up on the dashboard of Mike’s car and glared over at him.

 

“Yeah, you’ve told me that about a million times.”  
  
“Here’s a million-and-one; I can’t believe you pulled that fucking stunt.” Mike took his eyes off the road for a moment to return Eleven’s glare. He had been nothing but nice to her (except when he wasn’t), and she couldn’t even say “thank you”. It wasn’t fair. When he’d asked Hopper if he could tutor her, he’d sounded skeptical at first, but when Mike explained he’d gotten excited; he knew how badly her grades were slipping.

 

El had been less enthused. She was laying on her bed and staring at the ceiling, listening to one of Hop’s old records, daydreaming about being _out_ of highschool when Hop came in and announced she’d be going to tutoring on friday. She almost threw a tantrum, _especially_ when she realized it had to be Mike, the little shit. But she saw how happy Hop seemed, and she couldn’t throw another fit. He was trying, as best he could, to make sure she turned out better than him—so that she could be a normal teenager (even though she’d been robbed of her childhood).

 

And she felt like the biggest disappointment on earth.

 

“Look, I’m not doing this because I want to,” Mike said after turning into their neighborhood. “I don’t want to do this shit either, but my parents are making me get a job, and this was the easiest thing I could think of.”  
  
_Oh, God, the houses are so nice I might puke._ “Well you definitely don’t need my dad’s fucking money, you jackass,” she spat. Her eyes were icy, but she reminded Mike almost of his little sister when she was trying to hide something. “You know how we live, and you’re taking our money so your parents will think you’re a good little carbon-copy of them—”

  
“I don’t need the money, okay?! I _know_ that!” Mike stopped the car abruptly in his driveway. God, she knew how to push his buttons. “I’ll give it all back as soon as my parents think I’m capable enough of being a ‘carbon-copy’, as you so kindly put it. Like I said, I don’t want to do this. _Trust_ me.” El looked at him with slight surprise, and surrendered her silence.

 

“Listen,” Mike said with a sigh. “We just have to pretend to like each other around my parents. Can you handle that?”  
  
“I know how to act around people,” she responded quietly. “Shocking, I know.” With that she let her combat boots fall to the floor of the car before getting out. Mike rested his head on the steering wheel, took a deep breath, and followed. Maybe this wasn’t as good of an idea as he’d planned.

 

As soon as Mike opened the door his little sister, Holly, made a B-line for him from the kitchen. “Mike!” She squealed. “Mike, Mike, Mike! Can you play with me? Please??”

 

Mike sighed and chuckled a little. “Sorry, Holls,” he picked up the seven-year-old and pretended to drop her so she screamed. “But I have to tutor. No cigar, baby.” Holly squirmed and stuck out her tongue.

 

“I am _not_ a baby!” She cried. “Stop calling me that, butthead!”

 

Mike dipped Holly so her pigtails grazed the linoleum. “Call me butthead again and I’ll drop you, assmunch!”  
  
“MOM!”   
  
“Hey, I’m kidding!” Mike hissed, setting his little sister back on the ground. “But if you rat me out, your ass really _is_ gonna be grass. I’ll play tomorrow, okay?” Holly crossed her arms, but looked satisfied. That’s when she noticed the girl standing behind Mike, and gasped—she’d never seen someone like _that_ with Mike. Mike turned around and seemed to notice El for the first time, too.

 

“Is that your girlfriend?” Holly blurted.

 

“ _No!_ ” Mike and El responded in chorus, sharing a look before Mike looked back at Holly. “She’s just the girl I’m gonna tutor for. Her name is… El.”   
  
Holly raised her eyebrows and started rocking back and forth on her heels. “O-kay, Mikey…”

 

Mike huffed and walked past her little sister, starting towards the basement. El followed like a frightened puppy at his heels, marvelling at the immaculately clean house. Fine china and expensive liquor in cabinets, decorative plastic grapes? They couldn’t be _real_.

 

But El’s entire attitude changed once she was led into the basement. She was suddenly… at ease. The stained brown carpet, discarded soda cans and chip bags, moth-eaten blankets and decades old couch, the musty smell; it was far more relaxing than the fake cleanliness of the rest of the house. Mike seemed to think so, too. He looked a little smugly at Eleven, chiding “See? Not _all_ of my house is rich-looking.”   
  
“Hm,” El hummed as she wandered the room, staring at the video games and Star Wars memorabilia. “I’m not sure. This is still the most furnished basement _I’ve_ ever seen. I don’t even have one, so…”   
  
Mike chuckled and plopped himself on the couch. “Fuck off,” he said, but it wasn’t hostile. It was actually friendly. Jesus, was the basement just reminding him of his friends?   
  
Eleven sat down next to him hesitantly and started to take out her homework. It was mostly History and Chemistry. She was surprisingly good in English class; she used to be horrible, but as soon as she was able to get her hands on books, she’d started to read them like crazy. Words were her passion and, more often than not, her only escape. She was thankful she’d even been taught how to read in the lab, if anything good came from that place.

 

“So, what do you need help with?”

 

El stared at Mike. “What? You’re _actually_ going to tutor me? What happened to this being a ploy?”

 

Mike shrugged and grabbed El’s homework, looking it over. “Well, it’s not gonna work unless they see an improvement, right?” El sighed and leaned back against the couch. This was going to be even worse than she thought.

 

**_______**

  


“So, what was the world’s first communist state?”

 

“Russia. After the Russian Revolution, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” Mike replied with a grin. “See, you don’t even need my help. You just have to apply yourself.”   
  
“Sure,” El mumbled, sitting back against the couch. “You sound like Hopper. Or my teachers.”

 

Mike laughed a little, shrugging. But she seemed sort of defeated, and he didn’t understand why. She was actually learning; enough to pass the next quiz, anyway. _I should swallow my pride and just ask her what’s up_.

 

“Why do you call your dad by his real name?”

 

El’s eyes shot up to his and she tucked her feet under her. “He’s not my real dad.”  
  
Mike suddenly shrank in his seat and glanced at his lap. _Nice going, asshole._ “Oh.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
They both sat in silence for awhile before El stood up and wandered around the basement.   
“Need something?” Mike asked carefully.

 

“Yeah, some good music,” El responded coolly as she flipped through Mike’s cassette tapes. “I can’t believe you don’t have any records. This cassette shit should only be for cars.”  
  
“I _do,_ ” Mike got up and went over to where El was looking through the tapes. “I have them in my room. I don’t trust my friends with my record player.”   
  
“Well, if it’s anything like this, it’s shit. Oh, The Clash! Hell yes!” She didn’t give Mike the time to retaliate before putting the tape in the player and hitting play. Mike didn’t really have the courage to tell her that was one of Will’s tapes.

 

“Hey, don’t play that too loud, alright? My parents hate that crap.”  
  
“Then your parents are lame.” El looked over at Mike and, in shock, realized for the first time (it had to be the light, that was _definitely_ it) that he was actually sort of good-looking. He had nice facial structure. _For a nerd,_ she added quickly.

 

Mike stood stark still as Eleven walked up to him and leaned in close to his face. Her eyes seemed innocent and curious, before she smiled triumphantly and backed away again. “Thought so,” she said smugly. “You’ve got freckles. I bet your mom _loves_ those!”   
  
“At least I don’t have a snaggle-tooth,” Mike replied hastily, hoping his face wasn’t red. Jesus, he thought she was going to

 

_(kiss him)_

 

headbutt him or something. “But being a brace-face would probably fuck up your image, huh?”

 

“Piss. Up. A. Rope.”

 

Mike cleared his throat. She grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm with a smirk. “Oh, look at the time. Only about a half hour to go.”   
  
Mike ripped his arm out of her grip and laughed dryly. “Okay, we get it, you’re _strong_ for a _girl_. Now, do you want a drink or not?”

 

“What do you guys have? Coke in crystal champagne glasses?”

 

“No, sorry,” Mike admitted with a dramatic sigh as he ascended the stairs. “Is Pepsi okay?” El sat back down on the couch, her curls on one side bobbing gently.

 

“Sounds great. Don’t miss me too much.”

 

As soon as Mike was up the stairs and made it to the kitchen, he sighed and leaned against the counter with closed eyes. What was going _on?_ It was like they’d gone from hating each other’s guts to friends shooting the shit over the course of an hour and a half. He still didn’t like her—the comment about the freckles was not appreciated—but she seemed… more tolerable. She was actually kind of funny sometimes, which he hated. And sometimes when he glanced at her, he saw a really pretty girl hiding under that dark eyeliner and shaved hair. _It’s not that that’s hiding her,_ his mind whispered. _It’s way deeper than that._

 

After he collected himself and grabbed two Pepsis, he went back down the basement’s creaky steps. He could hear _laughing._ From more than one voice. He slowly peeked his head around the corner of the staircase and his eyes widened. There, Eleven was dancing with Holly (or rather, Holly was dancing with Eleven, since she led her in almost every move) to “London’s Burning”. She laughed while Holly swung her around and hopped up and down excitedly, giggling with her.

 

_I'm up and down the Westway, in and out the lights_

 

_What a great traffic system, it's so bright_

 

_I can't think of a better way to spend the night_

 

_Than speedin' around underneath the yellow lights_

 

“ _London’s burnin’, dial 99999!_ ” They sang. Holly’s words were mostly high pitched, out of breath giggles, but El sang them word-for-word, doing the best punk voice she could. She was in her element, something she never would have expected in a place like this. Mike watched in awe while a stupid grin formed on his face until the song finally faded out, and El released Holly’s hands.

 

“Hey, Mike,” El said. She tossed her hair out of her face and pushed it back halfheartedly. “Your little sister is pretty cool. Cooler than you, anyway. She likes The Clash, too!”  
  
Holly trotted over to Mike and tugged his sleeve until he bent down. “I think you should marry her, Mike,” she whispered. Loudly.

 

“Because she danced with you? God, you must be _really_ depraved for attention. Now get out of here before I never bring her to our house again.” Holly winked, nudged Mike, and crawled back upstairs while singing to herself.

 

El raised her eyebrows in triumph. “I’m only coming back here for her, I hope you know,” she said. “Me and her are gonna take over. Start a band. Kick you out.”

 

“So make my life hell?” Mike handed El her Pepsi and took a sip of his own. “You both already do that. I’ll be fine.”

 

They both sat back down, and El started to continue her homework, but Mike was still up for banter.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh before,” he admitted.

  
“I’m not a giggly person,” El replied, her eyes and mind clearly focused on her English homework. Mike frowned a little and sat back on the couch. _So much for being cool,_ he thought. _It was nice while it lasted._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE TUTORING IS HERE and they're finally starting to warm up to each other! sorry if any of this felt clunky, like I said, never done a slow burn before! thanks for all the support <3
> 
> p.s has anyone noticed the chapters are just random song titles lmaoo


	4. Something Glowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arcade turns out to be a great place to make friends, but Mike finds something out about Eleven he probably wasn't supposed to.

“Hey, Mike!” Max called. She jogged to catch up to Mike, who stopped in the parking lot and turned to greet the red-haired girl. She grinned and pushed her hair out of her face, setting down her skateboard. “So how’d it go?”

 

“What, the tutoring?” Mike asked absentmindedly.

 

“Yeah!”   
  
“Fine, I guess.” Mike shrugged. “She was actually… sort of cool, after awhile. Holly really likes her. But I don’t know, she still gets on my nerves.”

 

“Still!” Max responded excitedly. “That’s progress, right? Listen, she really does seem cool. You should give her more of a chance.”   
  
“What chance? I just tutor her. I don’t need to be friends with her.”   
  
“Oh, Mike,  _ please?  _ I really need some friends who are girls, and she’s the only girl cool enough to be friends with around here!”   
  
Mike furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Max incredulously, throwing his arms up. “What am  _ I  _ supposed to do? Introduce you?”   
  
“ _ Yes,  _ numbnuts,” Max replied, rolling her eyes. How dense was he? “Okay, look. Me and Will are going to The Palace tomorrow night, could you just invite her? You don’t even have to come!”

 

“Oh, my  _ God, _ ” Mike rubbed his face and sighed. “She’s not an  _ alien.  _ She’s not going to attack you if you ask her yourself.”   
  
“Since when did you defend her?”

 

“Since you forgot how to grow a pair, I guess,” Mike said with a shrug. Max huffed with a smug smile and raised her eyebrows, punching Mike lightly on the shoulder.

 

“Thanks, Mike!” She called as she skateboarded down the parking lot, swerving around honking cars. Mike sighed dramatically; his only defense. 

 

The next day Mike approached El with some hesitation after class. She seemed a little more roughed up than normal. “El?” Eleven whipped around, but actually felt pretty relieved at the sound of Mike’s voice. He was the only person she talked to on a regular basis these days. “Hey, this is going to sound really stupid, but my friend thinks you’re cool and wants to meet you. Her name is Max. She and I and another friend are going to The Palace tonight. Do… you want to come?”   
  
El smacked her gum and looked Mike up and down. “Are you asking me out? I swear to fucking  _ God  _ if you are--”

 

“I’m not!” Mike said, maybe a little too loudly. “I might not even go. It’s just for Max. Even if I was asking you out, the jig would be up as soon as we got there and she wasn’t around, right?” 

 

El looked Mike over again with a sigh. “You  _ are  _ going. I’m gonna need a ride.”

 

Mike groaned and started towards his next class. “God, fine. You should really get a car, you know.”   
  
“Wow, thanks, you’ve inspired me! You wanna lend some cash my way for it?”   
  
“You wish.”

 

**________**

  
  


The Palace’s neon lights shone onto the slick pavement and illuminated the faces of the teens there, who walked in silence up to its doors and stepped inside. The place had been around for a few years now, but it still had that “new” feeling, with its freshly painted walls and a carpet that hadn’t been worn to threads. The magic was gone from when they had been kids, though; whether that was because of it simply losing its novelty, them growing up, or a mixture of both, they couldn’t tell. But now Max was smashing buttons on Q*bert--a rather recent installment to the arcade, but an old game--while Will watched and cheered her on.

 

El walked a few spaces in front of Mike, who had told her to look for the redhead, and grinned shyly when Max caught her eye and waved her over. “Hey, you guys made it!” she let the game’s timer run out, and the black and white “GAME OVER” screen didn’t faze her for once. She side-hugged Mike out of gratefulness (which completely threw Mike off) and held out her hand for El to shake. “I’m Max. This is Will. Thank God we can finally meet!”

 

“Hi,” El responded tentatively. She didn’t know much about Max, but she skateboarded, so she figured she was alright. “Eleven.”

 

“Sick.” Max stepped aside to reveal Will, who smiled weakly and looked at the floor. El waved halfheartedly, suddenly feeling like she was scaring Will, and Max seemed to read her mind. “Don’t worry, he’s just kinda shy at first. C’mon, Will, lighten up!”

 

She smiled and spread her arms, her chest swelling with pride. “This place is my turf, my friend. You’re rolling with the big dogs now! C’mon, I’ll show you around, I know this place like the back of my hand.” 

 

Max led El towards the large array of cabinet games, and Mike sighed, shoving fifty cents into the slot and picking up where Max left off. “So, what’s your guys’ deal?” Will asked as he settled back into his spot leaning against the machine. 

 

“There is no ‘deal,’” Mike replied. “The only reason she’s here is because Max wanted to meet her. I just tutor her.”   
  
“Well,” Will fished out his own coins from his pocket, “what’s she like? She seemed pretty awful from the way Lucas and Dustin described her.”   
  
Mike shrugged. “Well, she’s not  _ as  _ bad anymore, but…” He sighed. Why was there always a catch? He had been telling so many people she was still awful, and it was just getting tiring.

 

“What?”

 

“I don’t know. She thinks I’m this perfect rich kid with amazing grades.”   
  
Will rocked on his feet. “Well, you kind of  _ are.  _ On the outside, at least,” he added quickly. “You know, I used to think you were like that too. I’d get so jealous, and my mom was always so embarrassed I couldn't have toys like yours. But then I got to know you, and you opened up, and I know your life isn’t perfect now. Just… open up to her a little. Maybe she’ll open up, too.”

 

“Yeah, right,” Mike hissed, his focus entirely on the game. “She’d just laugh at me and call me a crybaby. Her life is probably way more fucking tragic, and I’ll just look like a-- _ motherfucker!! _ ” He slammed his hands on the cabinet and huffed. He could see his reflection in the “GAME OVER” screen, mocking him. Will put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Hey, relax,” he murmured. “You don’t have to take my advice--”

 

“That’s not why I got angry,” Mike interrupted.

 

“Right. OK. Do you just want to talk about something else?” 

 

“Yes.”   
  
“Cool. Alright. Did you see Dustin’s birthday present from his dad?”

 

On the other side of the arcade, Eleven was trying her hand at Donkey Kong (Max had told her it was a good game for beginners, a classic) and chatting with Max, getting to know eachother. Max never pointed out that she looked weird or asked her why she dressed like that, or talked like this, or any of the trivial bullshit El was used to hearing. They just discussed likes and dislikes and even gossiped a little.

 

“Yeah, Lucas got me this,” Max said as she twisted a black bracelet wrapped tightly around her wrist; it was just a twisted rope secured with a mock-gold clasp. “I love bracelets. I have all these from California--” she pointed to an array of frayed, colorful bracelets. “I never take them off. His is really special, though.”   
  
“What’s that like?” El asked absentmindedly. She was deathly curious.

 

“Huh?”   
  
“Lucas. Having a boyfriend, I mean.”

 

“Oh.” Max glanced back up at El, and suddenly felt a stab of pity. “Well, it’s not always good. Me and Lucas first got together when we were  _ thirteen.  _ It ended in disaster. We had no idea what we were doing, God we were  _ kids.  _ Puberty, inexperience, fear, all of that. It wasn’t good. So we broke up. We got mature, and maybe did some dating around, and by being friends we really ended up understanding eachother, which made for a better relationship.”   
  
Eleven had long since abandoned the game, and was now staring with childlike wonder at Max, taking in every word. She seemed wise beyond her age, in a way that seemed like she’d been forced to grow up quicker, and El understood. 

 

“But you’re happy now?” she asked. Max nodded and smiled. “You love him?”

 

“Of course, El, I wouldn’t be with him if I didn’t. We’re just not on the openly touchy-feely side.” 

 

“What does it feel like?”   
  
Max stopped and looked El up and down, and suddenly El felt stupid again. She’d said too much. God, she always did that.

 

“Well,” Max began slowly. “I don’t believe in love at first sight, or whatever, but love--romantic love--is a lot more… intense. You always think about them and you hope they think about you. You want to be able to with them almost all the time. You… God, this is hard. You just want them to be really happy and you want to be happy  _ with  _ them. You want to be close. Physically, mentally. That’s why people just make out in public all the time, they can’t help it. Does any of that make sense?”   
  
“Yeah.” It didn't. El had never had a crush on anyone. She didn’t even know if she  _ was  _ a dyke like people said. Max just smiled and threw an arm over El’s shoulders.

 

“You’ll know when it happens, kid,” she teased. “Maybe not right away, but when you do, you’ll know. And then you can tell me all about it!”

 

After Will and Mike ran out of trivial things to talk about, they stood in silence, taking turns on the games, until Mike finally said, “I wonder what the girls are doing.” It was sort of weird, referring to them as “the girls,” but Will just shrugged.

 

“Do you want to go see?” Will asked. Mike nodded, glad to abandon the game and socialize with the others. They’d obviously hit it off, or else El would have come back to Mike.  _ Why the hell would she do that?  _ Mike thought.  _ She would have just left. Stop thinking about yourself. _

 

El was just about to beat her own high score when she felt hot breath on her neck and almost jumped out of her own skin. “Lose, lose, lose, lose,” Mike chanted, watching El tense up and shudder involuntarily. She tried ignoring him, elbowing him weakly, but his monotone chanting and his breath got the best of her. She hit the machine as Mike cackled, rubbing  her neck and ear, trying to shake the feeling of him, and whipped around.

 

“Do you just like to terrorize me, asshole?!” she shouted. Max touched her gently, laughing a little, and El relaxed her shoulders.

 

“It looked like you were doing bad, anyway,” Mike responded with a shrug.

 

“Hey, go easy! She’s a  _ beginner, _ ” Max said.

 

“Well, I’m out of quarters, anyway.” El shoved her hands in her pockets and looked expectantly at Mike. “Take me home.”

 

El leaned her head against the car window, watching the town lights streak by in the dark. She still couldn’t stop thinking about his breath on her neck, and she didn’t know why. It just felt weird, almost wrong. But not really.

 

“Hey, are you still upset about me making you lose that stupid game?”   
  
El turned around and furrowed her eyebrows at Mike. “No. Why would I be?”

 

Mike shrugged. “You just seemed upset.”   
  
“I’m always like that, dumbass,” El hissed. “I mean, God, why do you always have to be the goodie-two-shoes? If you weren’t such an asshole to me in the first place you wouldn’t  _ have  _ to apologize.”   
  
“ _ I’m  _ an asshole?” Mike asked in disbelief as he turned onto El’s street, the car bobbing slightly on the uneven road. “You’re an asshole right back! I’m always joking, too. And at least I  _ do  _ apologize.” The car rumbled to a stop, and El simply scoffed and got out. Mike got out as well.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Walking you to your door.”   
  
El stared in utter disgust. “See what I mean?  _ God _ , you’re such a fucking--”   
  
“--What, a nice person? All I’m trying to do is apologize and help you!” Mike cried, following El up to her porch.

 

“I don’t need your fucking  _ help _ ,” she spat. “You don’t need to make everyone  _ like you _ . Newsflash, but not everyone is ever going to like you!”

 

“I’m not trying to make you like me!” Mike sighed in exasperation and stepped onto El’s porch. “Why are you so afraid of anyone who’s nice to you? Who fucking  _ hurt  _ you, Eleven?”

 

Eleven’s eyes suddenly welled with tears. She didn’t know why. “ _ Everyone. _ ”

 

“Then let me change that--”

 

“I DON’T NEED YOU TO FUCKING FIX ME!” Eleven screamed.  Her skin was tingling and hot tears blurred her vision. “You can’t just be everyone's  _ therapist,  _ especially when I never fucking asked for it! You don’t know me! You don’t really care, you just want to feel like you’re such a good samaritan and brag about it.  _ God! _ ” 

 

Mike was stunned once more, but he pressed on. “That’s not true!” he said. “You don’t have to have my help. But if you don’t let  _ anyon _ e in, you’re not going to get--” 

 

Mike had reached out to grab Eleven by the elbow and that’s when, from the confusion and buildup of emotions, her fight or flight response kicked into overdrive. She screeched and, before she could realize what she was doing, shot her hand out. She felt her brain seem to expand and an electric shock crack through her entire body, and suddenly Mike was flung off the porch at least a couple yards and sent sprawling into the dirt and wet grass. 

 

He coughed and sat up. His adrenaline was pumping so fast he couldn’t feel the aches and scratches all over his body, but his head was throbbing. He looked blearily up at Eleven, fear stricken into his heart and showing plainly on his face. El felt the warm blood spill slowly from her nose and drip onto her converse. They locked eyes. Mike screamed.

 

_ Fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFFHANGER!! Of course when I finally come out with a new chapter, it's just gonna frustrate you all over again! Thank you all SO much for your kudos's and comments--it really means so much and I wouldn't be writing this if you all didn't enjoy it! I'll try and get the next chapter out soon, things are finally picking up! <3


	5. Cry Me A River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike isn't taking the news so well, and neither is Eleven.

Eleven wasn’t thinking when she started to approach Mike frantically, and thus didn’t realize what a terrible idea it was. Mike was shouting nonsense and scrambling backwards, digging his ankles into the slippery grass and trying to escape to his car. All he could see was El, her eyes shot and nose bloody, stumbling towards him with her arms outstretched and shushing him. He thought stupidly, amidst the confusion, she looked like Michael Myers, or Jason Voorhees.

 

He turned around and started crawling, and had finally touched the handle of his car when Eleven grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him away. “Shut up, shut  _ up! _ ” She hissed as Mike continued wailing. He was scared and in pain. She had thrown him with her  _ mind;  _ even in Mike’s stupor he knew that.

 

_ (oh god oh jesus i'm going to die I'M GOING TO DIE) _

 

Eleven spun Mike around and clamped her hand to his mouth. Mike let out a small whimper and kicked a little before Eleven sat on his knees, trapping him. “Listen to me.” She looked around anxiously. There was no noise except for the quiet rustling of trees. “I’m  _ not  _ going to hurt you. Stop screaming. But I  _ need  _ you to come inside, so I can explain, and you’re gonna have to fucking believe me. Okay?”

 

_ She’s insane.  _ Mike nodded, his eyes wide with terror, and El slowly removed her hand. Mike just stared, letting his jaw fall slack and rubbing it instinctively. Eleven sighed with relief and stood up, wiping her nose on her sleeve before offering her hand to Mike. He took it hesitantly and she led him, shaking, inside the cabin.

 

She switched on the lights and Mike looked around. It was kind of like Will’s house, but littered with beer cans and old blankets instead of wine bottles and art supplies. Both smelled like cigarettes.

 

“My dad isn’t home, thank  _ fuck _ ,” Eleven murmured. She locked the door and closed the blinds before leading Mike to the couch and setting him down gently. He looked terrible. He had done a backwards somersault into the dirt and grass, and he was wet and covered in mud, jeans stained green. He also looked like he’d vomit any second.

 

“Do you want some tea?”   
  
Mike slowly looked at Eleven as he took off his soiled sweatshirt. “What?”

 

“Tea. You know what, I’m just going to make it.” She stood and handed Mike one of the blankets. He took it. 

 

While the kettle boiled, Eleven busied herself by making toast for him (and an Eggo for herself). Maybe the food and drink would calm him down.  _ God, you really fucked this up,  _ she thought.  _ If Hopper finds out, you’re dead. He’ll put you back in hiding. And you’re gonna go back to being a friendless loser. You’ll even lose Max, and you just met her.  _ She sniffled and wiped her eyes, hugging herself for a moment.  _ Get it together. Jesus, get it together.  _

 

Mike jumped when the kettle whistled and nestled himself further into the musty blanket.  _ Just make a run for it,  _ he thought to himself.  _ She’s busy. She’s not gonna catch you. God, get out of there! _

 

But he didn’t. He sat until Eleven returned, handing him a steaming mug and setting some buttered toast on the coffee table in front of him. She sat down and drew up her knees, starting to gnaw on the plain Eggo in her hand. It brought some comfort, but not much.

 

Mike gawked at Eleven and took a few sips of the tea. The warmth was nice, at least. He was freezing. But he still felt sick. Who knew what she was capable of? And why was he even trusting her?

 

“I’m sorry,” El whispered. Mike glanced at her again, and her eyes looked wet. “I--I really didn’t mean to. You just scared me and it brought back…” She sighed and set down her plate with her half-finished waffle. “I’ll start from the beginning.”

 

El explained everything, starting with her mother. She brought up the MK ULTRA experiments and how her mother was involved--how it had rendered her catatonic. El, or Jane, grew up in the lab and wasn’t given a name.

 

“That’s why I call myself Eleven,” she said, lifting up her sleeve to reveal her tattoo. “I don’t feel right using a name my mother gave me. Who I would have been if I was normal and she wasn’t… you know.”

 

She then told Mike about how she escaped the labs and their cruel experiments. It was well known in the town that Hawkins Labs had been shut down years ago, but details had never been released. There were rumors, but the truth was even worse. 

 

Eleven had only been nine years old when she was forced to kill for the first time. First mice, then cats, and it wasn’t long before she was killing people. When she wasn’t being forced to attempt to open the portal, she was brought war criminals and innocent people from miles away to be used as test dummies for her powers. She was a weapon, and that was how they punished her for refusing to open the portal. She had seen the evil there, and she wouldn’t let it into Hawkins.

 

When they started getting closer to breaking her, Hopper joined the scene. He had talked to the officials and was growing skeptical of the place. It was his job to make sure there weren’t threats to the community. So he infiltrated it. Over the course of three years he made his way inside, then up the ranks, and witnessed first hand the evils taking place. But he just quietly collected evidence until, finally, it was time.

 

“He went to Papa--Dr. Brenner--and said if they didn’t let me go and shut down their experiments, he’d blow the whole thing wide open,” El explained. “And even if they killed him, he’d given the evidence to someone and gave instructions that if he didn’t make it out to leak it to every news network they could find. So, they gave him legal custody of me.” She smiled and laughed a little. “As soon as he made sure I was safe, in another  _ country _ , he blew the whole operation open anyway. Taped confessions and everything. So they got shut down, and those fuckers are rotting in prison.”

 

Mike stared. He didn’t look any more comfortable and understanding--he was maybe even  _ more  _ terrified. El looked at him pleadingly. “But people still aren’t supposed to know about my powers,” she whispered. “If it gets out, they’ll take me back. They’ll  _ kill me,  _ Mike. They might kill everyone. You can’t tell people, not even your best friends.”  _ Please be understanding,  _ she pleaded.  _ Come on, the one time I want you to be.  _

 

Mike finally set down his tea and started to stand. “They would never believe me, anyway,” he said hoarsely. “Can I just… go home now? I need to process this.” 

 

El’s lower lip quivered she almost wished he’d stay. She didn’t know what was going to happen after he walked out of that door. “Okay,” she murmured. She watched Mike, still shuddering, go to the door and walk out without looking back. Her hand shook and she bolted from her spot on the couch to the porch. 

 

“Mike!” she called. Mike stopped and turned to look at the girl. The light from inside haloed around her, and she was also shivering. “Will you call me tomorrow?” Mike nodded, barely enough to be visible, but it’s all El could ask for at that moment. So she watched him drive off, walked inside, and saw where he left his soaked sweatshirt.

 

She grabbed it, threw it into her closet, slammed the door, and sat on her bed to cry.

 

**________**

 

Mike didn't call the next day. Or the day after that. In fact, he didn’t call or even speak to Eleven for an entire two weeks. And Eleven couldn’t believe how miserable she was. She didn’t understand  _ why.  _ Of course she was sick with anxiety that he’d expose her secrets somehow and one day a government official would be at her door to take her away, to torture her again. But, of course, that didn’t happen. She wasn’t just miserable, though; she was lonely.  _ Lonely.  _ She’d never felt that before, because she’d been alone her whole life. But even though she couldn’t stand Mike sometimes, he was  _ someone.  _ And he’d introduced her to even more potential friends.

 

And now it was all over because she’d lost her temper. He was purposefully avoiding her at school, when before he’d at least shoot a glare at her across the hall.

 

But Eleven had been able to hold it together, for the most part. She was used to things going wrong in her life, so she did what she always did and retreated in on herself. She went back to being quiet, almost mournful. She never spoke, even at girls who laughed at her that she would normally snap at. She’d stayed home sick from school two days. Hopper had tried to ask her what was wrong, but she refused to open up. How could she?   
  
It was only when Hopper came into her room on Friday, as Leslie Gore (her guilty pleasure musician) crooned about boys and lost love, and told her that tutoring for that day had been cancelled that El lost it. “That fucking  _ coward!”  _ She howled. Hopper looked dumbfoundedly at his daughter.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Hopper asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

 

El stood up and threw her pillow on her bed. “He’s such a fucking pussy he can’t even see me at  _ tutoring?! _ ” she continued to nobody in particular. “God, he’s such an asshole! I  _ hate him! _ ” Hot tears were spilling down her cheeks now, and the lights were flickering madly. Hopper rushed to her immediately and enveloped her in a bear hug, letting her cling to him and sob into his shirt.

 

“Shh, shh, it’s alright,” he murmured. El breathed in the scent of his cologne and clung to him desperately for comfort, but he would never understand. He stroked her hair lovingly and grumbled something about “those bastard boys.”

 

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked after El’s crying slowed. “Did he break your heart? Cheat? God, I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him, I swear.”   
  
“Hop!” she shrieked. “W-We’re not duh-dating! We never did! He just--” she broke off with another sob. “He’s just a juh-huh-ERK!” 

 

“Well, I’ll still kill him,” Hopper responded. He was secretly relieved she hadn’t been dating behind his back. “Relax, sweetie. He’s not worth all this.”

 

El pulled back a bit and rubbed at her eyes furiously, trying to stifle her sobs. “I knuh- _ know _ ,” she choked. “But it still fucking s-sucks! I’m sick of being a freak!!” She made a decision in that moment and stood up. 

 

Hopper still had no idea what was happening. Eleven’s emotions and motivations were always nearly impossible to read, and he was absolutely terrible with helping her through them. Now he watched in a stupor as Eleven’s eyes grew stormy and bored into his. “That fucker isn’t going to avoid me anymore. No-fucking-sir.”

 

She grabbed Hopper’s car keys and fled her room with tears still streaming down her cheeks. Distantly, she heard Hopper calling for her, but she didn’t stop. She stomped numbly outside until she was inside the car, and slammed her foot on the gas. She wanted to be emotional, to have her heart feel heavy and mind clustered, but she felt empty now. Her eyes were dry. The grief was manifesting somewhere deeper, somewhere she couldn’t quite reach. 

 

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Calm before the storm.” 

 

**_________**

  
  


Mike sighed and let the arm of his record player fall haphazardly into the grooves of his record. Buddy Holly’s crackling voice began, and Mike fell onto his bed. He closed his eyes and tried to let the music fill his mind, so he wouldn’t feel so alone with his own thoughts. It was driving him up the wall, and it had been for all of those days.

 

_ Oh, girl on my mind _

_ Please come back to me _

_ I love you with all my heart _

_ With you I want to be. _

 

Mike screwed his eyes shut tighter. “Girl on my mind, girl on my mind,” he grumbled under his breath, rubbing his face and feeling suddenly like he wasn’t at home. His walls felt paper thin, as if he was on a movie set. He’d been thinking that way ever since El pointed out how fake his house seemed. How fake his entire life seemed. How fake he felt even to himself.

 

The strangeness of his own voice mesmerized him. “Get the fuck out of my mi-ind,” he said mockingly to the song’s tune. He stood up and jammed the arm back up, watching the record turn silently, hypnotically. He’d been listening to music almost nonstop; now he hated every song. 

 

He heard a knock and almost scratched the record as the arm came back down, whipping around to his door. “Mom?” he called. The knock came again, but this time Mike realized it was from the window. He turned slowly, and had to swallow a cry of surprise when he saw El crouched on the roof.

 

“Miss me?”

 

“Jesus! What the hell are you doing here?!” Mike whisper-shouted as he walked towards the window. 

 

“Let me in and I’ll tell you.”

 

“What? You--”

 

“Open the window, Michael!” 

 

Mike sighed in defeat. He slowly undid the latch and pushed up the window, with some effort. El crawled inside silently and brushed herself off as she stood, marvelling at Mike’s room. He had a few posters for movies or bands, dirty laundry bundled in a hamper in the corner, cologne and other random knick knacks on his dresser, trophies from science fairs old and recent… El found herself a little charmed by it all.

 

“Couldn’t you just open it with your…?” Mike faltered, looking guiltily at the ground. 

 

El had almost forgotten why she was there, but she was very suddenly reminded by Mike’s comment, and her eyes grew stormy again. “Yeah,” she whispered. “But I wanted  _ you  _ to let me in. You know, since you've been  _ avoiding me for two goddamn weeks. _ ”

 

Mike swallowed thickly and rubbed his neck.  _ Oh. Right.  _ “I--I just… I needed to process what you told me. That was heavy shit!”   
  
El took a deep breath. She was trying to stay calm and unwavering, but already she felt a lump in her throat. “I  _ know.  _ I lived it, Mike, and I trusted you enough to tell you!”   
  
“Actually, you had no choice but to tell me.” Mike folded his arms and stood straighter as well. “You know, since you almost  _ killed me _ .”   
  
Eleven’s lower lip began to quiver. She tried desperately to stop it and clenched her fist. “No I didn’t,” she growled thinly. “I wouldn’t kill you. Why are you b-being…” she took a deep breath. Her thoughts were whirlpooling sickeningly around her head. She felt like she could explode at any moment. “Why are you being like this?”

 

“Like what?! You’re the one who came into my room unsolicited!” Eleven felt her heart shatter into pieces, and she had no idea why. It had always been a mutual understanding that they hated each other. She had hated him from the moment he spoke to her and said those terrible things. He hated her right back. He only tutored her out of necessity. What was happening to her? Why did she care so much that he was being an asshole? He was always an asshole.

 

Except for when he wasn’t. Except for when they made quips with each other, and he helped her with homework, and drove her places. Except for when he made all those efforts to apologize, and she hadn’t believed him. And now, El was realizing like a blow to the stomach, he was done apologizing.

 

She thought of a million things to say. She thought about screaming at him, or apologizing, or arguing, or even simply turning and walking away, never to speak to him again. But she didn’t do any of those. She stood frozen, staring at Mike, until her eyes welled with tears, and she began to cry. It wasn’t an angry, frantic cry like before. Now it was just all of the misery overflowing as she pathetically covered her face and sobbed. 

 

Mike was paralyzed. It was like he had just kicked a puppy. Here she was, standing in the middle of his room and crying uncontrollably, pathetically.  _ What the hell is wrong with you?  _ He asked himself. He had hardly said anything, but it was enough to break her. How long had she been feeling like this? Because of  _ him?  _

 

Instinctively, he approached her and went to grab her arm. For a split second he hesitated, thinking about what had happened the last time he did that, but quickly pushed the thought away and gently took her by the wrists. She let him.

 

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he murmured in between shushing her gently. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just disappeared, I know, I’m really sorry. Don’t cry, please.”

 

Eleven continued to cry, even when Mike lowered her arms. She pressed her face into her shoulder and did everything in her power not to wail. “D-Don’t,” she said weakly in between sobs.

 

“Don’t what?”

 

“Duh-Don’t be…” El looked up with her eyes still swimming, her shoulders heaving as she shook her head. “Don’t t-try to huh-uh-elp me.”   
  
“Why?”

 

El suddenly started to cry harder again, twisting her wrists in Mike’s hands. “Yuh-You don’t mean it! You duh-uh-on’t! You juh-ust don’t… don’t wa-ant to feel guh-uh-uilty!” she hiccuped.

 

Mike just sighed and shook his head gently. “That’s not true. God, El, not everyone is out to get you. Some…” he faltered, “Some people  _ do  _ care. What do I have to gain by helping you? I’m going to be guilty anyways.” 

 

El looked up with a shuddering breath at Mike, tears now flowing silently down her cheeks, her face twisted with grief and blotchy. “Please,” he mumbled. “Let your guard down. Just this once. You’re so tired and... hurt. It’s going to kill you if you keep this up.” He gazed at her with softened eyes. “Just this once,” he repeated.

 

El let her tensed shoulders relax. She began to sob again, and leaned brokenly into Mike. He let his hands fall from her wrists and wrapped them around her as he pulled her into his chest. 

 

They stood like that for a long time, with Mike holding El and resting his chin on top of her head. El eventually let her arms wrap around Mike in return, and breathed in his cologne mingled with her tears. He rubbed her back soothingly and shushed her until her sobs quieted, and finally stopped completely. Even after El stopped shaking and he couldn’t feel his shirt being soaked with tears, he still held her. And the long forgotten record sang softly in the background.

 

_ Hold me close _

_ And tell me how you feel _

_ Tell me love is real _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE... I just got so busy out of nowhere and got the worst writer's block at the same time! I also hope this didn't feel too fast... I'm bad at slowburns! Thanks for your support and patience <3

**Author's Note:**

> W-WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS IS A KNOCKOFF BREAKFAST CLUB... all jokes aside though I hope you guys are gonna enjoy this fic! I've never done a slowburn or written mileven (sorry my fellow byeler friends) but hey, there's a first for everything, right? this fic was a direct result of my friend @EvieSmallWood, who has been inspiring me so much lately! She gave me the idea for this fic AND beta'd it! She's incredible so while you wait for updates, check her out!! thanks for reading <3


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